She composed herself before finally shifting her focus back to the system’s display screen. The original string of “0”s had now updated to show a different digit: “1”.
Shen Qiao stared intensely at the screen, wishing she could burn a hole right through it. Sure enough, right next to the “1”, she spotted the unit: “m³”.
She had risked her life and bargained for so long, only to get a single cubic meter of storage space. Though filled with reluctance, she truly didn’t dare provoke Lord Yama any further.
“Whatever, something is better than nothing. At least I wasn’t completely scammed,” Shen Qiao muttered, pouting in self-consolation as she finally accepted her fate. Here she was, stuck in a strange, ancient parallel era—orphaned, living within four bare walls, and burdened with a frail sixteen-year-old body that could be blown over by a gust of wind. If she kept throwing a fit and ended up genuinely angering Lord Yama into taking back even this tiny space, she would be truly helpless, with no one left to turn to.
She stole one last glance at the display screen: aside from the single cubic meter of storage, there was nothing else.
Forget the grand mansion, fine clothes, gourmet meals, and easy, work-free existence of the “effortless winning life” she had dreamed of—there wasn’t even a single grain of basic food. She was dirt poor in the most literal sense.
Helpless, Shen Qiao let out a soft sigh and silently thought “Close” to exit the system.
Returning to reality, the damp smell of mold mingled with the dry, dusty scent of old thatch drifted into her nose. Looking around, the room was pitifully tiny. Aside from a wobbly wooden plank bed layered with ragged straw and a worn wooden wardrobe with a missing leg propped up by a stone, there wasn’t a third decent piece of furniture in sight. Sunlight leaked through the gaps in the thatched roof, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Spotting a few stray spiderwebs in the corner, she realized this impoverished setup was ten times bleaker than the smallest basement studio she had ever rented in modern times.
“Talk about going from bad to worse,” Shen Qiao mumbled, rubbing her throbbing temples. The original owner’s lingering sense of grievance, fear, and despair, combined with the jarring gap of her own transmigration, welled up all at once. Her nose twinged, and she nearly burst into tears again.
However, she quickly suppressed her emotions. Having been a modern office worker who regularly pulled late nights and worked overtime, she had long built up a high tolerance for stress. Crying wouldn’t solve a single problem; her most pressing task right now was to survive.
Just as she was pondering how to get through this, her stomach let out an ill-timed, loud rumble. Sharp cramps shot through her empty gut, and a wave of hunger left her dizzy with black spots in her vision. Stumbling over to the bed, she sat down and looked down at her hands—skinny as bird claws, covered in tiny cuts and chilblains. She made up her mind: since Lord Yama’s shortcut plan had hit a glitch, she would just have to rely on herself to pull through the immediate crisis.
As she brainstormed ways to handle her current predicament, a gentle knock sounded outside the thatched hut, accompanied by a deep, raspy male voice tinged with distant reserve: “Are you awake?”
Standing outside the door was an exceptionally imposing man clad in coarse linen clothes, faded from countless washes and patched in several places. Broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, he radiated the rugged toughness of someone seasoned by years in the mountain forests. His skin was a healthy bronze, and his facial features were sharp and deeply defined. Yet his expression was stern and cold, his brow carrying an aloofness that warned strangers away, his dark eyes brooding with unreadable emotion.
The man held a small cloth bundle in his hand, standing at her doorway like a small mountain. This was none other than the Lu family’s second son, Lu Zheng.
Looking at him, a flicker of gratitude rose in Shen Qiao’s heart. The original owner owed her life to this man. Since she was now occupying this body, she had to assume that debt of karma. With that thought, she quickly gathered her thoughts and spoke softly, “I’m awake. Thank you for saving me today.”
Looking at the young girl before him, a barely perceptible trace of surprise flickered in Lu Zheng’s eyes. When he had pulled her out of the water this morning, she had been sallow, emaciated, and dazed, her eyes filled with despair and cowardice. But looking at her now, though still thin and frail, her eyes were clear and steady, devoid of her previous lifelessness—almost as if she were an entirely different person.
Asking no questions, he simply handed over the cloth bundle in his hand. His tone remained flat and unhurried: “There isn’t much at home. Take these coarse grain cakes to stave off your hunger for now.”
Looking at the rough grain cakes peeking out from the bundle, Shen Qiao’s stomach betrayed her with another rumble. She knew that even coarse grain cakes were a precious commodity in such a poor mountain village.
She had heard from the villagers that Lu Zheng wasn’t particularly favored at home, so his own life couldn’t be easy either. The fact that he was still willing to share food with her was a kindness she held close to her heart.
She didn’t refuse—she desperately needed food right now. Taking the bundle, she expressed her sincere thanks: “Thank you, Brother Lu. I will definitely repay this kindness in the future.”
Lu Zheng gave a subtle nod without adding anything further. Turning on his heel to leave, his steps were steady and heavy, maintaining his quiet, taciturn demeanor.
“Brother Lu, wait!” Shen Qiao called out, stopping him in his tracks. Looking at the man’s broad back, she said earnestly, “My name is Shen Qiao. Please look out for me in the future, Brother Lu.”
Lu Zheng paused momentarily. Without turning around, he merely offered a low “Mm,” then walked step-by-step down toward the foot of the mountain, his silhouette soon disappearing down the country path.
Standing at the doorway, Shen Qiao watched his departing figure. Tightening her grip on the coarse grain cakes, she reached up to touch the black jade pendant at her chest. Wearing it out in the open wasn’t safe right now; she took it off and stowed it away into her new one-cubic-meter storage space, making a silent resolve in her heart.
So what if Lord Yama failed to deliver a perfect, effortless life on a silver platter? She possessed a mind full of modern knowledge and experience. Even in this remote, impoverished ancient village, she could rely on herself to build a good life and steer this derailed “effortless life” right back on track.
Glancing down at the coarse grain cakes in her hand, she turned back into the thatched hut to eat a few bites and fill her stomach. Then, she began mapping out her next steps: securing food and shelter, and steadily improving her life.